Young Elf
by Kira Linn
Summary: Following the misadventures of young Kurt during his years with his German family. K to be sure for future chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Young Elf

An X-men fanfic

By KT

Nighttime falls over a small town in Germany. From the distance can be seen a large group of armed teenagers, mostly boys, running through the town, seemingly running after something, but that something is hard to spot from a distance.

It is a little blue something. A human-shaped something. A young boy perhaps, wearing a dark brown cloak a little too big for him. Whipping around in his hand was a bag with bread, beginning to crumble. His young child's face distorted with fear and concentration on running as fast as possible. Suddenly he stops for half a second, and with a quiet sound that could only be described as "Bamf" he disappears for a moment, and then re-appears a little ways farther than he would have had he run the same distance. But it isn't enough, the crowd of gang-banging boys chasing after him speeds up. He begins to run again, now stumbling half the way. A tail, pointed like a demon's and covered in soft blue fur, like velvet, whips out behind the boy, abandoning the belt loop in which it had been safely tucked up until panic left it forgotten.

"Mutter, mutter!" the strange boy cries out, tears now flying from his bright yellow eyes, "Mutter Help!"

The game of fox and hound runs to the edge of the inner town where shops are kept, out to the outskirts where houses dot here and there, then farther out to where the houses are fewer, with bigger yards and are closer to the river. The little boy's cries can be heard for miles, but no such luck for the lad, no one comes out of the houses to save him from the murderous older boys. As the gang catches up to the little blue child, they begin calling out to him, taunting, "Missgeburt!" "Teufel!" and other such rude names. But the boy cannot hear them. Not only because he is busy running for his life to worry about their cat-calling, but because he has long been accustomed to these harsh torments.

Puddles surround a house with only one light on inside "Mutter! Mutter!" can be heard faintly in the distance inside the warm little cottage. A woman, probably in her thirties although worn for her age, looks up from the book she was reading. She closes her eyes, listening hard, wondering if she might have been mistaken for the voice she thought she heard. "Mutter! Mutter help! Mutt-ack!" and a splash.

"Kurt…" she mutters worriedly as she dashes out of the cottage.

Bare footed and jacketless the woman dashes out of the house and into the muddy yard. She runs, nearly tripping in the soft mud herself, over to the small figure curled up in a ball half in a puddle, crying and scared. " Kurt? Kurt what hapa- " she cut off as she glanced up at the hoard of teenage boys. Some were carrying bats, others pieces of metal, or switch-bladed knives. She grabs the bundle on the ground, carefully but firmly, and lifts it up while straightening herself to her full height.

The mob stops, glaring at the figure. " Stupid old woman, why do you even care about that little furry freak of nature? " Says one of the tallest boys, brandishing a metal bat in his hand and a knife on his belt. She silenced him with a look so stern it would have sent a club bouncer running. Silence was broken again by a boy yelling rather rude swears, immediately joined by his peers. The roar of insults was nearly deafening.

The ball of soppy coat and mussed blue fur in the woman's arms shakes silently as the noise increases and the gang approaches with new confidence in numbers and their weapons held high. " Leave now, or I will not be held responsible. " she yelled over the din. The crude mob moved in closer. "Fine then, have it your own way… " the woman said, standing the boy up in what little grass there was in the mud-yard and grabbing a rake from off the ground, spinning it around and catching one of the boys in the jaw. The others backed away as the grubby mess-of-a-punk wheeled in pain at the bruise swelling up on his cheek. " Scatter the lot of you before I call the police! " she said, brandishing her rake like a club.

The gang makes a sort of muffled retreat, muttering complaints and curses on the way. The tallest and most obviously the leader leans down on his way by to the little one the woman had so quickly defended, and whispers " She wont always be around you know, I will make sure of it. And when she isn't there to save you, your freaky little head is mine! " on the last word he received a quick swipe to the back of the head with the rake before stumbled off after the rest.

"Kurt…ist du alright? You aren't hurt, are you?" the woman says, gathering up the bag of bread which had been thrown thankfully into a dry spot on the lawn, and gently prodding the soaking wet and muddy child into the house. Now and then she glanced over her shoulder to make sure the would-be attackers were leaving.

Once inside, the boy's mother closed and latched the door, which looked like it had seen better days, with burn-marks on the metal sheet covering the wooden door and more dents than one could imagine on one front door. It didn't look too un-similar from the way the outside of the house looked. Inside Kurt was brought over to the fire place where the helped him pull off his soaking wet cloak and shirt. She grabbed a warm dry towel from a shelf in the linens closet and began drying him off with it. After a while of silence broken only by the crackle of the fire, the mother spoke. "Well? What was that all about then?" she asked.

"Verzeihung Mutter, I didn't mean that to happen! I just wanted to show you I could get the bread from town like the other boys do for der mutters!" his eyes filled up with tears again and he buried his face into his mothers lap.

"Shh, shhh…" she whispers, carefully drying off the blue fur that covered his entire body and cleaning the mud gently from behind his pointed ears. "Now then, das ist enough crying." She said, standing him up gently and cleaning his face with a rag. "It's all okay now. No more being sad. Your father will be home soon, so help me fix dinner okay?"

Kurt nodded quietly and followed his mother into the kitchen.


	2. Chapter 2

((-Author's notes ; Okay, forgive this chapter if it isnt as great as the first. (not that the first was extreemly great, mind you I don't write very often) The reson behind its potential bad-ness could be attributed to the fact that I didn't have my beloved friend give it the ol' edit-o-ramen (I mean, edit-o-rama), so its quality is based soley on my own judgement...ph34r. When and If I can get it edited by someone, I will upload it over this one...Otherwise, enjoy as best you can and please review. Critque, even small error critique, is wonderfully welcomed. PS: I do not own X-men Evolution or any of it's characters. marks represent something said in another language, in this case german.))

Chapter 2: "The Question 'Why?'"

Kurt stood on a stool working over a pot while his mother bustled about the rest of the cooking. The little one had a face filled with all the importance and intensity of a child who has been given such an important task it cannot be done by anyone else, such as holding the hammer while someone works on the wall or in this case, stirring the pot of stew.

"Mutter?" he said quietly, when his mom had stopped bustleing about the kitchen to slice up some carrots.

"Yes?" she responded softly. Kurt stopped his intense stirring to look at his mom.

"Mutter, why did you and Papa choose me? I know you said that I was adopted, but why me? Why did you choose me? Because a normal kinder wouldn't get chased by bullies just because he took his hood off. I always make a lot of trouble..."

She had to think for a moment about this. "Well, it was because…God meant for us to have you I think. He loves you, and he loves us, and he decided to bless us with you." She said eventually. Silently she remembered that day;

_It had been a quiet day, fairly normal comparably. Mr. and Mrs. Wagner were sitting by the river near their cottage home. It was strangely peaceful spring weather, especially when it had been stormy not long before, though the water had already dried from the ground. Mrs. Wagner looked up from her book for a moment. She wasn't sure what had distracted her, but she glanced around. She saw something floating in the water a little ways off. She tried for a moment to figure out the floating object, but she couldn't tell. It didn't move like any creature, and it certainly wasn't a log because it kept shifting, like and uncomfortable child. _

"_A child?" she whispered to herself, wondering where the thought had come from, but trusting her feeling, she signaled her husband who had just set up gear for fishing, "Out there, in the water, give me your pole please dear" she called to him. Grabbing the fishing pole she began wading out into the water to the floating bundle. She used the pole to direct it to her with the flow of the river. When it had finally come within reach she pulled carefully up out of the water, what appeared to be a pile of old blankets and cloth, but inside it, was something warm, and moving._

_After wading back to the shore, the woman carefully unwrapped the bundle of blankets, her husband watching with curiosity. They both gasped quietly when a tiny hand reached up. A tiny hand, covered in the finest soft blue fur. The childs two small fingers and a tiny thumb wrapped tighly around Mrs. Wagner's extended finger. She glanced around several times, trying to make out if there was a mother nearby, but there was no one but her and her husband, and the strange little boy who had come from out of nowhere. She gently lifted him from the blankets and lovingly into her arms. He blinked at her with big yellow eyes, yawned, and then began to nod comfortably in the warmth of a woman's arms. _

"_He is a blessing child when we could have none" she whispered_

"_What shall we call him?" her husband said quietly, trying to keep from wakeing the baby _

"_We will call him…."_

"Kurt…." She said out loud. "hmm?" answered Kurt, turning his head to the side slightly. She simply smiled at her adopted son. "It's nothing."

Kurt and his Mom cleaned the table, and put out the plates and bowls and silverware, twice Mrs. Wagner had to keep the small boy from trying to carry too much at once. They set out the bread and butter, and the stew in a big pot, just in time as the door opened. Through it stepped the strong man Kurt had come to know as Dad. He folded his umbrella and placed it in the stand, walking through to the dining-room and giving Kurt an affectionate rub on the head, messing up Kurt's almost-dried hair. Kurt grinned and followed his Dad.

Mr. Wagner kissed his wife and then sat down. He was a warm man, but of few words. Mrs. Wagner got out some napkins as Kurt climbed into his chair over the top of the backrest, and would have fallen straight into his bowl of stew if his mom hadn't pulled the chair back in time. Instead the child simply landed with a slightly awkward 'pluff' onto the chair's cushion. Mrs. Wagner sat down, bowed her head, and put her hands together, signaling a prayer before the meal. Kurt scurried into the sitting position and clasped his small hands together.

"Dear heavenly father, we thank you for the nourishing bread and stew, we thank you for the blessings which we see everyday, and thank you for protecting Kurt today. We ask that you bless this food, Amen." she said "Amen." Kurt and Mr. Wagner said in unison.

When dinner had been eaten and the story of Kurt's adventure with the town-boys had been told, things were being cleaned up from the table and the phone rang. Mr. Wagner made it to the ringing object first and picked it up. Kurt's curious nature gave in, and he stopped to try to listen, but was quickly shooed back to work by his Mom, winking, who moments later crept over to the doorway and tried to listen in. Kurt stifled a laugh and tip-toed over behind his Mom. The phone went 'click' as it was set back up on the hook. Mrs. Wagner and Kurt both hurriedly attempted to make it look as if they had been working the whole time on the dishes.

"Who was it dear?" Mrs. Wagner inquired.

"My boss. He is visiting tomorrow afternoon and is bringing his daughter because her elder brother can't watch her. Some sort of…accident or such. Be sure he is milking a simple bruise on the jaw to it's fullest." He said with a sarcastic smirk.

"Do I need to set a dinner place?" She asked unblinkingly.

"No, they'll be here later than that." He responded.

When the dished had been cleared and cleaned and the table was empty, Kurt looked up at his mom and said, "Mutter, do you think Fater's boss's boy told him about today?"

Mrs. Wagner smiled and picked Kurt up.

"No dear-one. You think that little snot would tell his dad he got beat up by your mom with a rake?" Kurt snickered impishly. His tail twitched as he was carried up-stairs. Rocking in his mother's arms he was lulled slowly to sleep, a smile still on his face.


End file.
